Here are two lines
Do not fear, they do not run deeper.
No blood was spilt, but harm they may,
They serve a memory for Today.
One is honour, one is strife,
But each will never take a life.
Drawn on in ink to remember
What was forgotten
Now or fornever.
To lines stand here
Small and sickly
A cryptic note to those who care.
To those who don't please - don't dare
From bonheur in a farway land
God, father and little lambs
Little innocence
Not one understands
Two lines lie here
for not all to see
One is honour, one is strife,
They serve a memory for Today.
LC
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